Friday, 9 March 2012

Solar Senility

The Ides of March are almost upon us. Beware.Waking in a cold sweat I stop breathing and listen. I swear I can hear them climbing the walls, crawling over the roof. Legions of slithering milibands and other creatures, who would harry and harm a man. I pull the blankets closer and begin my new morning routine, visualising my stores and counting the hours before I have to go out for supplies.

I listened to the wireless again yesterday. There are reports of suffering from all over the country; helpless people crying out for deliverance. Some are having to do without their chauffeurs and nannies, or having to keep their car for a third year. Some are even being asked to work for their living. It's terrifying. I radioed out for help, "Can you hear me, motherfucker?" I asked. No reply.

Nope, no good. I reckon it's the solar flares. I've been cooped up in here for days now. It's so long since I heard or saw another human and now I'm running out of soup. I like soup. Soup is good. It protects you from all manner of things... but now I'm running out.

The horror.

For all I know, civilisation is on the brink, or over it. I had a power cut the other night and strange, alien noises started up outside my window. An unholy clamour of sirens, alarms... the dying howls of long neglected sentinels. They persisted for a while but then they stopped. It's silent out there now, but I dare not look to see if the danger has passed. To do that I'd have to scratch a hole in the black paint on my windows and then 'they' would be able to look in. For all I know they are listening right now... I'm glad I'm not paranoid.

It's time to act. I need to get away before it's too late. I need more soup. I'm going to leave the safety of my blankets, put on my hat and venture outside.